Morning Left Before I Did

By the time I woke

The kettle was dry

Your cup was rinsed

And turned on its side

A note on the table

Two lines in blue

Bread in the bag

The small kind you use

Your shoes were gone

The gate had been pulled

The house kept warm

But nobody moved

I stood in the kitchen

Still dressed for sleep

With one borrowed towel

Folded at my feet

No one left me lonely

No one left me blamed

The day had simply started

Without saying my name

The rooms were all open

The chairs were all still

The clock kept cutting

The hour into pieces

I was not abandoned

I was not missed

I was only late

To a life that had shifted

The radio clicked

In the neighbor’s yard

A truck door shut

Somewhere not far

Your list on the counter

Had errands in pairs

Bank before noon

Medicine downstairs

I wanted a reason

To feel out of place

But the sink was clean

And the house had your pace

I made myself tea

Then let it go cold

Too careful to use

What I used to hold

There are days that leave you

Without making sound

Not by walking away

Just by moving around

The rooms were all open

The chairs were all still

The clock kept cutting

The hour into pieces

I was not abandoned

I was not missed

I was only late

To a life that had shifted

I folded the blanket

I smoothed out the sheet

I checked every corner

For proof I should keep

But nothing was asking

To be carried away

Not the cup, not the hallway

Not the unmade stay

I locked nothing behind me

I took only my keys

And the strange little kindness

Of being free to leave

The rooms were all open

The chairs were all still

The day had a rhythm

I had no part in

I closed up my bag

At the foot of the bed

And knew before leaving

Morning left Before I did